


I got my swim trunks, and my flippie-floppies

by Kacka



Series: Kacka Does a Thing [18]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 01:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10957302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kacka/pseuds/Kacka
Summary: Going on a cruise with her friends seems like the perfect last hurrah before Clarke moves across the country, and it seems even better when she finds out that her ex-nemesis, now-sort-of-friend is on the same cruise. And not just because he's game to help her mess with her mother.





	I got my swim trunks, and my flippie-floppies

**Author's Note:**

> For @scripsi aka @legividivici on tumblr. Thanks for the prompt, friend! Hope it's everything you wanted <3
> 
> Based loosely on [this post](https://ham-lin-ton.tumblr.com/post/153643262057/drst-lesbianshepard-so-my-english-professor)  
> Title from The Lonely Island because why not

The last place Clarke expected to run into anyone she knows is the literal middle of the ocean, but the cruise ship has barely left port before she spots a familiar head of tousled curls ahead of her in the crowd.

She loses sight of him before she can get a good look, so she chalks it up to her imagination. It's entirely possible that Bellamy _is_ on the same cruise she is-- they did, after all, both just graduate, and therefore have the same budget and scheduling constraints-- but she tells herself it probably isn't him. And that even if it is him, it's not like they're going to run into each other.

So of course the next day she's on one of the decks by the pool when a shadow falls over her and his voice says, "Is this chair taken?"

Clarke pushes her sunglasses up on top of her head and wrinkles her nose at him.

"I don't know, I my tiara really ought to have a chair of its own."

Bellamy smirks and sits on the edge of the chair, not moving her stuff-- not yet-- but settling in to bicker with her. As is their custom.

She and Bellamy were RAs in the same dorm two years ago, and they had differing ideas at first about how hands-on they needed to be with their freshmen. Despite the way they picked at each other, by the end of the year they'd become reluctant allies, his calling her 'Princess' taking on less of a sneer and more of a teasing edge, her comebacks laced with a smile. They had each other's backs.

But she didn't re-up her RA contract for her senior year, and he did, and they're not the type of friends to outright admit they miss each other, so she hasn't seen nearly as much of him in the past couple of semesters as she would like.

"You here with Wells?"

"And Raven," she nods. "I was saving those seats for them, but I'm pretty sure they ditched me to have tiny cabin sex."

"O and Lincoln ditched me pretty fast too. I think they've all forfeited their right to a saved seat," he grins, passing her bag back to her. The way he lounges back in the chair, skin already browning, wind ruffling his hair, he looks like something straight out of an ad. Or Clarke's fantasies. Either one, really.

Just because she used to think he was a Class-A dick (which he _is_ , but not in the way she thought. In the _fun_ way.) doesn't mean she's never noticed how great his hands are, or how he's got perfect hair for pulling, or how there's probably more than one way to wipe a smirk off his face.

"Sure, make yourself at home," she grumbles. He grins at her and pulls his shirt off, which is-- honestly just so unfair.

"Don't mind if I do."

Clarke rolls her eyes-- unsticking them from his frame-- and hides her blush behind a long sip of her drink. She hopes he'll chalk the pink of her skin up to the sun. He doesn't need any more reasons to be smug than he already has.

"Starting early, huh?" He says, nodding toward her drink. She doesn't remember what she ordered, but she knows it's fruity and strong and came with a little umbrella in it.

She raises an eyebrow. "I'm on vacation, judgy."

"I'm not judging," he protests. "I'm honestly impressed. It never even occurs to me to start drinking before noon."

"Yeah, well. I figured I deserved it."

"For getting through finals?"

"For getting through the conversation with my mother about how I'm not moving home."

He smiles at this in a way that feels like understanding, which is new for them. Clarke finds that she likes it. "She didn't take it well?"

"She took it as a challenge, I think. The ultimate guilt-tripping opportunity."

Clarke knows she's lucky to have a mother who loves her, who supports her doing what she wants to do with her life, and who wants her around. But they've both got that Griffin stubbornness, so she knew Abby wouldn't let this decision go without a little bit of resistance and a whole lot of annoyance.

"So if you're not moving back to New York, where are you going?"

"Portland. So, basically as far as I could go while staying inside the continental U.S."

"Yeah, I can see how she'd have an issue with that. What's in Portland?"

"This guy I knew growing up has a startup out there-- he built this indoor sports complex? The biggest thing is the ice rink but there's also a gym, and there will eventually be a small turf field, that kind of thing. He asked if I'd be interested in running his design and communications, which is a lot better than what I'd get starting at the bottom rung somewhere else."

"Does he know that your primary form of communication is telling people they're wrong?"

"It's a valuable service." She smiles. "And honestly Roan is more likely to skip straight to fighting someone than I am. Which is saying a lot."

"I can't even imagine, honestly. You love fighting people." He ruffles the pages of his book thoughtfully. "Sounds like a good gig. You think it'll be a permanent move?"

"I want to come back east eventually. I like the Chicago area a lot. Which isn't close to New York, but close enough to make my mom happy."

"My sister and I went through this when she picked a college in Hawaii," Bellamy says, rolling his eyes fondly. "It wasn't so much that I thought she'd never visit. I was more worried I couldn't be there for her very easily if she needed me."

"My mom seems to think the further I am from her influence, the more bad decisions I'll make. So I've been sending her evidence that I can make plenty of bad decisions no matter where I am."

Bellamy lets out a bark of surprised laughter. "Like what?"

She grins. "So far it's been asking her opinion on motorcycles and sending her pictures of really bad tattoos."

"That's not too out there."

"She's a doctor, so the motorcycle thing freaked her out a little more than I was going for," Clarke admits. And then, after a pause, "And she still doesn't know about my actual tattoo."

"You have a tattoo?" He asks with interest.

"I might have a map of Alaska on my ass," she admits, and he busts into laughter. "Drunk me felt really bad that it gets left out all the time," she says defensively, but she's laughing too.

"You know you can get that removed."

"I could, but it seems unnecessarily painful and expensive. Plus, I think it's funny. And anyone I'd sleep with or am good enough friends to show it to is also going to think it's funny, so it's not really a big deal."

"That's the best thing I've heard all day," Bellamy says, grinning at her wide and uninhibited. "Maybe even ever."

"Glad you're entertained," she says, dry enough he maybe can't tell how pleased she is. "I was thinking about going to check out that surfing simulator so I can photoshop myself with a huge wave and some sharks. Want to come with?"

"Are you trying to make me complicit in your schemes?"

She shrugs. "You got something better to do?"

"Definitely not." He smiles at her again. It's something he's been doing a lot in the past few minutes, and every time he does, it makes the next four days look better and better. "Lead the way, Princess."

"There's something I never thought I'd hear," she teases, slipping her sandals back on.

He just shakes his head and grumbles, "Don't get used to it."

* * *  
From: cgriffin@ark.edu  
To: abigail.griffin@gmail.com  
Subject: we're on a boat

I have five words for you: all you can eat buffet. Cruises are awesome and you should talk Marcus into doing one over Christmas instead of us going to grandma’s again! (I doubt it will be a hard sell)

I attached pics for proof that we’re having fun (But not too much fun. No need for you to worry!)

Oops, my finger slipped... Didn’t mean to send that last one…

Love you!

* * *

From: abigail.griffin@gmail.com  
To: cgriffin@ark.edu  
Subject: Oops?

Looks like you kids are having fun. I’ll talk to Marcus about Christmas.

And sweetheart I know you think you’re being funny but I could’ve done without ever seeing that last photo.

Stay safe and make good choices.  
  
Love, Mom

* * *

"You don't think you're going a little overboard with this?"

"Oh, she definitely is," Raven says, tilting the screen toward Wells. "See? Here she's _actually_ going overboard."

It had been a good afternoon wandering around the ship with Bellamy, exploring and teasing each other. She wasn't surprised to find he had plenty of devious ideas to freak her mother out, nor was it really a surprise how much she enjoyed spending time with him.

Having him close to her, warmth radiating from his skin as he peered at her screen over her shoulder, his voice rumbling away in her ear as he asked her questions about how photoshop works... Clarke is honestly a little bit surprised she didn't drag him back to her cabin to make out. She has more restraint than she realized.

Wells shakes his head, fond. "Your mom isn't actually going to buy any of these, you know. All you're doing is poking the bear."

"I'm making a point," Clarke insists, taking her laptop back.

"And that point is?"

"I can make stupid, bad decisions no matter where I live."

"Yeah, I'm with Clarke on this one," Raven says, patting Wells's arm affectionately. "Being close to Abby just makes her want to act out more. If anyone was going to be a good influence on Clarke, it's you."

"And look how that turned out."

"It turned out fine," he protests, rolling his eyes. "Did you die in a bar fight? No."

"Low standards," Raven snorts.

"If the craziest thing you did was get a dumbass tattoo, I'm calling that a win."

"Well if you're such a good influence, how do you explain _your_ dumb _ass_ tattoo?" Clarke shoots back.

Wells pauses with his drink halfway to his lips.

"Solidarity," he says at last, and they all have to laugh.

* * *

  
^tagged: **tripleb**

 **octaviamarie** we’re back, beaches! (pc **@notpresident_lincoln** )

 **tripleb** that’s not even a good pun, we’ve never been here before

 **tripleb** it’s like you learned nothing from me

 **octaviamarie** **@tripleb** that’s exactly what it’s like

* * *

Clarke tells herself she's not going to seek Bellamy out, but as they disembark the ship at their first stop, she can't help scanning the crowd for his familiar build.

"Need a boost?" His voice comes from right next to her and she startles, smacking his arm instinctively.

"I'm not _that_  short."

"You were on your tip toes and I bet you still couldn't see over most of the crowd," he teases, swaying closer to her side as everyone jostles together around them. "What were you even looking for?"

"Trying to get a glimpse of the beach," she lies. "Are you guys headed there, or into town?"

"Beach for me, all the way." His hand finds the small of her back, sticking with her as she slides through a gap between people. "I lost O and Lincoln in the chaos, but I'm, uh-- I'm not too upset about it right now."

Clarke considers for a beat, then reaches back to enclose his hand in hers.

"You're welcome to stick with us," she offers, blushing when Raven glances over her shoulder and immediately zeroes in on her hand in Bellamy's.

"Buddy system," he agrees, squeezing her fingers.

Clarke has, of course, seen photos of crystal-clear water and white sand beaches, and beautiful people in various states of undress on them, but experiencing it for herself feels surreal. Having Bellamy's hand in hers, even after the crowds have thinned and she doesn't need to keep ahold of it, feels even more so.

They find an empty spot in the sand to spread out their beach towels, and then Raven is heading straight for the surf, everyone else hot on her heels. Bellamy's sister and her boyfriend find them eventually, their two groups cobbling together with ease.

Clarke tries not to notice how they're all paired off, how the way Bellamy teases her and splashes her and grabs at her ankles under the water is the same playful way Octavia flirts with Lincoln. How she's about to ask him to reapply her sunscreen on her back, until she sees Wells doing it for Raven and realizes how intimate that would be.

Eventually, she has to call a time-out for herself, breaking away from the group to collapse on her towel, worn out from the sun and sticky with seawater. To her surprise, Bellamy follows.

Watching him walk out of the waves, curls plastered to his forehead and miles of tan skin perfectly on display, Clarke's heart starts to pound. She has a feeling that's an image that's going to stick with her, and she'll feel a little bit bad when it features prominently in her fantasies. She's tongue-tied as he drops down next to her, close enough it raises goosebumps on her arm.

"Cold?" He asks when she shivers. Before she can answer, he's wrapping an arm around her, pulling her into his-- admittedly very warm, and also very _firm_ \-- side, running his hand up and down her arm as if to warm her up.

"We're on a beach in the Caribbean in May," she says, amused. "It's like ninety degrees."

"And a little bit cooler, with the breeze and damp skin," he shoots back, but lets her go. Which was not really her goal, but had to happen at some point. Luckily, he doesn't go far, just leans back on his palms with one planted firmly in the sand behind her. "How'd your mom like the pictures?"

"Haven't sent them yet. I'll try to find a cafe or something with wifi before we get back on the ship."

"Yeah, O hasn't been a huge fan of the whole no internet thing."

"Let me guess, back in your day kids had to walk uphill both ways in the snow for internet?"

"Hardly. We had to look everything up in clay tablets. And most of us couldn't read anyway, so it was mostly a moot point."

Clarke snorts. "You're such a nerd."

"Nerds are in these days. And I'm not the one who spent all of yesterday afternoon on photoshop."

"You're right. You were _watching_  someone photoshop, which is much sadder," she teases. An idea occurs to her, and after half a beat of consideration, she pulls out her phone. "Here," she says, opening the camera. "Lean in."

"Why?" He asks, even as he presses in next to her again.

"I'm taking a picture for my mom. I have to have something mildly alarming from today to send her."

"And I'm mildly alarming?"

His face in the selfie screen has one of his closed-lipped, _I'm being a good sport about this_ smiles, up until Clarke turns her head at the last minute and presses her lips to his cheek, soft and fleeting. He freezes, doesn't even breathe for a moment, and Clarke has to grin when she checks the photo. His face has loosened, a sincerely surprised and maybe even delighted expression replacing the one he wore before.

"I'll tell her I met a guy here and we're eloping or something," she explains, not quite brave enough to look up at him.

"If it's a fake wedding photo you're going for, I think we can pose one better than that," he says, and though his voice sounds a little bit off, when she looks up, he's raising his eyebrows at her in that challenging way of his. The one she can never back down from.

"Oh yeah?" She grins. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

 **Clarke Griffin** invited you to her event **Clarke and Bellamy’s Tropical Destination Wedding** on **Alpha Star Caribbean Cruises**

Going (6): **Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake, Octavia Blake, Wells Jaha, Lincoln Woods, Raven Reyes**

Invited (216)

 **Eric Jackson** Congratulations, Clarke!  
  
**Maya Vie** Congratulations, **Bellamy** and **Clarke**! I was always rooting for you two!  
  
**John Murphy** I can always count on you two to keep things interesting  
  
**Jasper Jordan** srsly regretting not going on that cruise. I’m missing all the action!  
  
**Monty Green** I think what Jasper means to say is congrats!  & congrats from me too!  
  
**Jasper Jordan** don’t tell me what I mean!  
  
**Jasper Jordan** but yah congrats or w/e

* * *

From: octaviablake@ark.edu  
To: cgriffin@ark.edu  
Subject: just in case...

lincoln got a good shot of you and bell today, thought you might want it!

 

* * *

"You guys are idiots," says Raven, shaking her head. It's basically all their friends have been telling them for the past few hours, but they've mostly sounded fond about it.

"I thought it would be funny!" Clarke insists for the millionth time.

"We didn't know people were going to _believe_  it," Bellamy repeats, yet again.

"I'd say I can't believe she got you to go along with it," Wells sighs, "but I absolutely can."

"And I'd say you guys are dumbasses, but I feel like it's a given," adds Octavia.

Lincoln nods. "Water is wet. Cruise ship beds are tiny. Bellamy and Clarke are ridiculous. It's just a fact at this point."

Clarke looks to Bellamy in outrage, but he only shrugs. "They're not wrong."

"Traitor," she grumbles. He pokes at a patch of her sunburn, gentle enough it doesn't really hurt but is reminiscent of getting her pigtails pulled on the playground.

"We're not the ridiculous ones," she insists, swatting his hand away. "Our Facebook friends who fell for an obvious lie are the ridiculous ones."

"We're at least a little bit ridiculous," he grins. "Now we have to decide how to deal with it. Do we clear it up at the next stop or do we double down?"

Clarke feels herself light up with intrigue, pointedly ignoring their friends as they exchange dubious looks.

"Double down," she decides, if only because hanging out with Bellamy these past couple of days has been really fun, and she wants an excuse to keep the ball rolling.

He nods his approval, his smirk matching the one she can feel on her own face. For a brief moment, his eyes flicker down to her lips. Her breath catches--

\-- and the moment breaks when Raven heaves a huge sigh and stands from the table.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm getting the four of us some shots. If we have to deal with this, we're going to need them."

"Yeah, you probably are," Bellamy agrees, tearing his gaze away from her. "Fake wedding photos are going to be a lot more convincing with you guys in them."

Octavia rolls her eyes. "I'll come with you," she tells Raven. "You're not going to have enough hands for all we're gonna need."

* * *

From: abigail.griffin@gmail.com  
To: cgriffin@ark.edu  
Subject: I think you know what this is about

Call me as soon as you can.

* * *

Their friends are better sports about posing for fake pictures than Clarke could've even expected, though she suspects much of that has to do with the drinks she and Bellamy promised to buy them in repayment.

(Raven is also on the record as rooting for Clarke to hook up with Bellamy before the cruise is over, and she seems to think this is the way to make it happen. Which Clarke isn't disputing. The more time the spend together, the more possible he seems.)

They don't take the photos until sunset (for maximum romantic setting potential), but they spend the rest of the day together, the six of them wandering around, playing drinking games and laughing until their sides hurt.

"The photos turned out pretty convincing," Octavia admits at dinner, passing Lincoln's nice camera to Clarke. Bellamy leans in close to inspect them over her shoulder, one of his arms resting on the back of her chair.

They're honestly perfect, miles of glittering ocean in the backdrop, their friends doing a passable job of pretending to be sentimental instead of exasperated, and Bellamy smiling at her like-- Well, like they're in love.

It hadn't felt like that in the moment, both of them far more focused on not bursting out in laughter. But if she didn't know any better, it would be a very convincing scene.

 _Possible_ , she thinks, but all she says is, "It would've been hard to get a better shot."

A crew member interrupts them at that moment, a bottle of champagne and a tray full of glasses in his hands.

"Excuse me. You two are the newlyweds?"

"That's them," Octavia confirms cheerfully, and Bellamy's leg jerks as if she's kicked him under the table. As if she's the only one who has seen the champagne.

"That's us," Clarke agrees, leaning further into his arm. Bellamy lets his hand settle on her waist.

"Some of our other guests sent this over," the crew member says, sliding the bottle onto the table. "For your happy day."

Everyone makes the appropriate oohing and ahhing noises and Clarke feels Bellamy hide his smile in her hair.

"Thank you," she says, placing a hand on his knee and squeezing. A cue to get it together. "That's so nice of them. Please thank them for us as well."

"Of course. Congratulations to you both."

"Thanks," Bellamy manages, and when the crew member has left, his head falls to her shoulder to mask his laughter.

"Good poker face," she teases, nudging him. "Whoever sent this is probably watching us receive it, you know. That's what I would do, anyway."

"Then let's have a toast," Raven decides, passing the glasses around. "To Bellamy and Clarke. We love you idiots."

Everyone echoes her and Clarke drinks deeply, trying not to indulge in the feeling of Bellamy's fingers tracing loops across her bare shoulder.

"That could've been a lot more insulting," he says in her ear. She turns to him and smiles.

"Yeah, all things considered, that was a pretty nice toast."

He ducks his head, dropping her gaze. All of a sudden she registers tinkling sounds, their friends tapping their utensils against their champagne flutes.

"What?" Bellamy demands, scowling at his sister.

"That's a wedding tradition," Clarke says, rolling her eyes at Raven, who just smirks back at her.

"You're supposed to kiss," says Wells helpfully, and Clarke rolls her eyes, turning back to Bellamy to say something along the lines of, _can you believe them?_ \-- and instead, finds him leaning in and capturing her lips with his.

She kisses back on instinct, not quite overwhelmed enough by the gentle pressure and the taste of champagne on his lips to completely freeze up. It doesn't last long, stays chaste with plenty of plausible deniability, but as he draws away from her his hand tightens around her shoulder with nervousness. She chases his mouth for one more reassuring peck before tucking herself back into his side, raising her glass to cover whatever her face is doing.

Their friends are whooping, even quiet Lincoln, but Clarke doesn't manage to catch much of their ribbing. She just laughs and lets the current of the conversation carry their words away from her, most of her mind occupied instead with thinking about how well and truly screwed she is.

* * *

From: roan.kingsley@icenation.com  
To: cgriffin@ark.edu  
Subject: Boring details

Clarke,

I've attached forms we need you to fill out: W-2, background check authorization, etc. They should be somewhat self-explanatory but if you need assistance, we can find a time to video chat and I'll walk you through them.

Also, it appears from your Facebook that congratulations are in order. I'd arranged for my assistant to start looking at apartments for you, but if you and your new husband are looking for more of an investment, we can gather that information for you instead. Let us know what you'd prefer.

Best wishes,  
  
Roan

* * *

"Ready to get back to real life?"

Clarke hums and leans on the railing, looking out over the water. It's every bit as beautiful in the moonlight as it is during the day. Maybe even more.

"More like ready to start real life. It's going to be weird to not be a student anymore."

"I know what you mean. It's all we've done for the past-- seventeen years? Give or take."

"I don't even know what you're doing next year," she admits, looking over at him. The wind ruffles his hair and she thinks about what it might feel like under her fingers.

"Grad school," he grins. "I'll still be a student. But it won't be the same. Especially without all my friends living in the same square mile."

"You've got to be a little bit used to that, though. With Octavia and all."

"We've gotten pretty good at keeping in touch," he nods, then slants his eyes toward her and wets his lips. "I don't think I could do it with everyone, but-- for the right people, I'd be willing to try."

She sways closer to him, wondering if it's the champagne or him that's making her head feel light. "I tried long-distance with my high school girlfriend. It sucked."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She chews on her lip. "I have a hard time trying to be in two places at once. I know some people make long distance work, but I'm really, really bad at it. Especially if it was a newer relationship."

"Relationship, huh?" He teases, but he sounds a little disappointed.

Clarke can't help herself. She rises up on her toes and kisses him, landing a little off-center, but then he slides his hand into her hair and deepens it, and--yeah. She can't believe she's missed out on this for so long.

He groans against her mouth and gently pushes her back, his thumbs stroking her waist apologetically.

"If you move back and you're single..."

His voice is husky and she wants so much more, but she knows this is him setting a boundary and she wants to respect that.

"I'll look you up either way," she promises, letting her hand slip from his shoulder.

"Good." He runs a hand through his hair. "Walk you to your room?"

"Sure."

He hugs her at her door, and she can still feel his lingering warmth when she slips into her cabin and shuts the door behind her. Wells smiles at her, Raven already snoring on his chest.

"Good night?" He whispers. She smiles at him and nods.

"Almost perfect."

* * *

 **Clarke:** So hypothetically  
If I were looking for an apartment in the Chicago area  
Would you know any good neighborhoods?

 **Bellamy:** I might have some suggestions  
Is this really a hypothetical?

 **Clarke:** I like Portland  
But I'm not cool enough to live here much longer  
I miss the Midwest

 **Bellamy:** Then yeah, I've got tons of suggestions  
Including places you could get dinner  
Or coffee  
Or see movies  
I know all the places

 **Clarke:** Sounds like I should spend a lot of time with you

 **Bellamy:** I was gonna say

* * *

It feels silly for Clarke to be nervous about seeing Bellamy again. It's not like they've had zero communication over the past two years. He texted her only a couple of days after the cruise, wanting to commiserate about all the people who bought into their fake Facebook marriage, and after that it was easy to drop him a text whenever she felt like it.

Which was more often than she expected. For a school friendship, it held up pretty well over the time and distance. He'd send her pictures of weird stuff he came across in his research, and she'd tell him about all the people in the coffee shop with her who were way trendier than she is, and the conversation would peter out after a few days.

But now she's moving back, and they both happen to be single, and he feels _possible_  again.

Still, she's trying not to get her hopes up. That only lasts until she sees him, standing at the foot of the escalator in the airport with a sign that says _My Facebook Wife_ and a giant smile, just for her.

She grins back and throws herself into his arms, clutching him tight. She missed him more than she thought, and she'd known she missed him a _lot_.

"Glad to see you too," he teases, but she can hear his smile in his voice.

"Shut up, you are glad."

"I am," he agrees, and gives her another squeeze before letting her go. "I don't think I believed you were back for good until just now."

"Well, believe it," she says, smiling. "Gonna be hard to get rid of me now, Blake."

"That's fine by me." He pauses. "Have you eaten?"

"I had a snack before I left, but weird flight times, weird meal times."

"Good," he decides, grabbing her carry on in one hand and her hand in the other and towing her toward the door. "That's what I was hoping you'd say."

"Yeah?"

He looks down at her, still smiling wide. "I think we've waited long enough for this date, don't you?"

She ducks her head and turns her hand over to lace their fingers together. "Definitely."

* * *

 **Clarke Griffin** invited you to her event **Clarke and Bellamy’s Non-Tropical, Non-Destination Wedding (for real this time)**

Going (2): **Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake**

Invited (74)

 **Nathan Miller** we fell for this once, how dumb do you think we are  
  
**Monty Green** i don't know, the ring is pretty convincing...  
  
**Jasper Jordan** IF THIS IS FAKE YOU ARE GOING TO BREAK MY HEART  
  
**Eric Jackson** Does my congratulations from before count toward this one? Since it's the same groom?  
  
**Bellamy Blake** I promise this is the real deal. We're telling you months in advance and everything.  
  
**Octavia Blake** yeah but you're telling us over *facebook*  
  
**Clarke Griffin** real invites will come soon! This is just for... nostalgia  
  
**Raven Reyes** ew gross  
  
**Raven Reyes** but like happy for you guys i guess

* * *

From: abigail.griffin@gmail.com  
To: cgriff100@gmail.com  
Subject: Wedding plans

Hi sweetheart,

As promised on the phone, here's my wedding planning spreadsheet. It was a lifesaver for me and Marcus, even as small as our wedding was.

I'm just thrilled for you and Bellamy. Send me a photo of the ring when you get a chance, so I can show my friends who still think this is another one of your "funny pranks".

Love you,  
  
Mom

* * *

"Welcome to Alpha Star Caribbean Cruises!" The girl checking them in is far too perky for such an early hour, and Clarke wants to snap at her, but Bellamy's hand on her hip reminds her that he's going to do the talking. "Have you been a guest with us before?"

"It's been a while," he says, voice fond. "Maybe four years?"

"Five," Clarke grumbles, slumping into his side. His fingers slip under the hem of her shirt, soothing her a little. The first thing she's doing is taking a nap somewhere, preferably by a pool.

"Well, then I'll remind you of the drill--" She launches into the spiel and hands over their keys, and before long Bellamy is guiding them through the corridors toward their cabin. They sprung for a slightly more comfortable one this time around, since Abby's wedding gift was cash to put toward their honeymoon.

As soon as she sees the bed she faceplants onto it, dragging him down next to her before he's even had a chance to set the bags down.

"And here I thought you might still be in a good mood after the wedding," he teases, brushing her hair back from her face. She wiggles her body towards him and nuzzles into his chest.

"I'll be in a good mood when it's a decent hour to be awake," she mumbles. "Nap first."

"Nap first," he agrees, stroking down her back.

"You don't have to stay," she says, despite the way she's clinging to him. "You can go do cruise stuff."

"Nah," he says, kissing her hair. "I'm good where I am. Besides, we've got plenty of time."

She smiles and relaxes into him. They do have plenty of time.

They have the rest of their lives.


End file.
